


Morning Breath

by SuperBerry



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Coffee, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-03
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-27 23:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2710595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperBerry/pseuds/SuperBerry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire's coffee machine breaks and he uses it as an excuse to go to Enjolras' apartment. Every single morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Breath

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic on here, hope you enjoy.

Grantaire stayed up most of the night sketching after the meeting in the night before, because Enjolras was wearing skinny jeans that made his ass look so amazing, that it was past the point of being humanly possible.

Two hours of sleep is almost good enough to function with for Grantaire, but a cup of coffee would be a safe option on the side. Standing up from his bed, yawning for a minute, Grantaire slumps down the hall to his kitchen, grabbing a K-Cup to put in his coffee machine. He puts it in the cheap coffeemaker, turning it on and waiting for his mug- that managed to get paint splatters all over the sides and the handle- to fill almost to the brim of piping hot coffee.

But it doesn’t. Grantaire’s head hits the counter out of drowsiness, but perks up, remembering his coffee is going to save his lack-there-of sleep. The mug is as dry as a bone.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Most of Grantaire’s friends don’t have coffeemakers, while those that do have machines almost worse than his. He could go to the Starbucks down the block from his apartment. His brain tells him no, because it’s three dollars for a half-decent cup and it’s likely to be swarmed with the local population of hipsters.

Grantaire could also spend fifty dollars on a new machine. Yet again, the stores wouldn’t be open so early in the morning, and he spent a good portion of his extra money on a new sketchbook and a large amount of K-Cups. Which are now useless.

Fifteen minutes later, Grantaire finds himself knocking on the door leading into Enjolras’ apartment, after a bubbling idea from seeing his sketchbook.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Enjolras asks, glaring at Grantaire as he opens the door. His golden curls fall just above his icy blue eyes, and a red blanket is wrapped loosely around his body. Grantaire resists the urge to entwine him into the blanket, and walks in and slumps his coat against a chair. Enjolras sighs, closing the door. “Are you drunk?”

“I need coffee, Apollo,” Grantaire says, the lack of sleep is evident in his tired voice and drooping eyes. “My damned machine gave in.”

“Your point, exactly? It’s a bit early for you to be up. You’re not usually awake before nine.”

“Can I use your maker?”

Enjolras’ brow furrows as he stares into the kitchen. After a few awkward, silent seconds, he finally speaks up.

“Mugs are in the cabinet above the microwave. Make me one while you’re at it.”

Enjolras sits down on the sofa, burying his mind into his laptop. Grantaire curses himself for not thinking to do this earlier, because Enjolras is too damn adorable when he’s all wrapped up in his blanket.

..

Grantaire forms a habit of going over to Enjolras’ every morning to get coffee. Enjolras expects it, and sometimes he even brews the coffee before Grantaire gets to his apartment. They tend to sit on Enjolras’ couch and watch TV, or scroll through Grantaire’s Tumblr feed on Enjolras’ laptop. Sometimes they just talk. Both of the men are too tired in the morning to argue, a normal tendency of them. That’s saved for the meetings at the café every Tuesday and Thursday evening, or the “meetings” at Courfeyrac’s apartment every Saturday evening.

A few weeks after the start of their not-a-date morning coffees, Enjolras smiles slightly as he sets Grantaire’s paint splattered mug in his cabinet, after it winded itself out of Grantaire’s apartment and into his own.

..

“Why is it we never go to the café in the morning anymore?” Combeferre asks Enjolras, before one of their meetings on a snowy Thursday.

“Oh, Grantaire’s been coming over for coffee. His machine broke,” Enjolras replies, snagging his laptop out of his bag.

“Oh. I didn’t know you two were so close.” Combeferre smirks.

“We just enjoy a mug of coffee together, ‘Ferre. Nothing particularly exciting happens.”

Their conversation is put to an end when Courfeyrac and a few other of the Amis walk through the door of the Musain.

Throughout the meeting, additional inches of snow float their way down from the sky and create blankets and blankets on each other. Jehan’s distraction by the glistening snowflakes begins to rub off first onto Bahorel, shortly followed by Feuilly, Bossuet, and even onto Courfeyrac.

“Come on guys. Its just snow. This happens every year!” Enjolras groans, loathing on the clear fact that the attention of the others will only spiral downwards.

And it does. Most of the Amis take off within the following minutes; Joly dragging Bossuet to their apartment with the irrational fear of getting hypothermia, Bahorel challenging Jehan and Feuilly to a snowball fight, Gavroche, Cosette, and Marius running out to join the fight, and Eponine chasing after Gavroche with his coat.

Enjolras, Combeferre, Courfeyrac, and Grantaire remain. Courfeyrac and Combeferre duck out to have some privacy at Courfeyrac’s apartment (which may or may not involve them making out under the covers in Courfeyrac’s bed), leaving the leader and the artist.

“It’s only us now, Apollo. I should probably leave so I can freeze in my apartment,” Grantaire announces, standing up.

“Your apartment doesn’t have heat?” Enjolras asks.

“It broke. The landlord promised to get it fixed by the end of the month.”

Enjolras can’t fathom living without properly functioning heat in the cold of winter.

“Stay at my place tonight.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m offering for you to stay my apartment for the night, ‘Taire. I don’t want you getting sick because your lazy landlord is refusing to replace your heat.”

Grantaire snickers, acknowledging his landlord’s ability of severe procrastination.

“Either way, it’s not like I won’t be at your apartment in the morning.”

..

Enjolras and Grantaire don’t even realize that they are holding hands, not even after they get inside Enjolras’ apartment. Grantaire notices when their hands part ways when he bends down to untie his Converse (which are not by any means suited for the weather). His cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

“Um, I can sleep on the couch,” Grantaire mumbles.

“No, I will. You take my bed,” Enjolras pushes.

“It’s your bed.”

“Well I sleep in there every night, ‘Taire.”

“I’ll only be here for one night!”

“Exactly! That’s why you should get the bed!”

“That’s a really bad reason!” Enjolras argues, as he walks into the bathroom and closes the door.

“So? I have many bad reasons for every argument! You point them all out, Apollo!”

The bathroom door opens and the light flicks off. Enjolras walks out, pushing on a pair of glasses that seemingly appeared from nowhere. _He wears contacts? He still looks hot in glasses…_ Grantaire thinks.

“Unless you’re sleeping in the bed, I’m sleeping on the ground,” Enjolras states calmly. Grantaire lets out a sigh.

 

“Fine,” Grantaire groans. He suddenly smirks. “Under one condition.”

“And that would be what exactly?”

“You sleep in the bed as well.”

..

“BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE-” the alarm clock buzzes. Enjolras groans and hits the clock off, and buries his head in his pillow. He and Grantaire are mere inches away from each other. Grantaire may or may not have wrapped his arm around Enjolras in his sleep, but Enjolras may or may not have minded the slight embrace.

“Jesus Christ, Apollo. Do you need an alarm for days where you don’t even have class?” Grantaire groans, sitting up. Enjolras turns to lie on his back, and Grantaire yawns.

“I forgot. I’m sorry, ok?” Enjolras mumbles. “As long as we’re both up, I’ll do coffee this morning.”

“I will. You go back to sleep.”

Grantaire gets up and slumps into the kitchen, pulling their mugs from the cabinet. After brewing the coffee- which Grantaire might have poked his finger in and then needed to run it under cold water for a minute because it was scalding hot- he sneaks back to Enjolras’ room to alert Enjolras of the coffee.

Settling down on the couch with Enjolras’ laptop in his lap and one arm sprawled against the back of the couch, Grantaire opens up the internet and logs onto his Tumblr to waste a few too many minutes (or hours) scrolling through his feed.

..

“Hey,” Enjolras says, breaking the silence of the room while setting their mugs on the coffee table. He sits down right next to Grantaire, and his stretched arm is very capable of slinging over Enjolras’ shoulder if it slides down even the slightest bit. Grantaire closes the lid of the computer and gently places it by the coffee.

“Morning,” Grantaire responds.

“I need to ask you something.”

“And that would be?”

Grantaire hopes that Enjolras wants him to give him a blowjob, that he would be more than happy deliver. But Grantaire knows that that’s not what he’s going to ask.

“Why didn’t you just go to the café, or just get a new coffeemaker?”

“Because I would much rather burden the mighty Apollo every morning with my presence.”

“You’re not a burden, Grantaire.”

“I practically force you into giving me caffeine every day. Plus, I hang around even after I’m done just to annoy you, other reasons set aside as well.”

“What other reasons?”

Enjolras raises an eyebrow and Grantaire grabs his mug, not realizing that the coffee is still pretty hot. He takes a sip, but yelps as the overly warm beverage touches his lip.

“That’s still scalding! Shit,” Grantaire curses. Enjolras sets the mug down and lets out a breath that he didn’t realize he was even holding.

“I know something that might help,” Enjolras says, before leaning up and pressing their lips together. Grantaire kisses back lightly before pulling away.

“Do you get your relationship advice from rom coms? God, Enjolras. That was so cliché…”

“So do you not want me to kiss you again?”

Grantaire answers that by pulling Enjolras into another kiss, wrapping his arms around Enjolras’ waist. He enjoys the morning breath, a delightful clash of coffee.

..

It’s safe to say that their coffee went cold that day.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read! Feedback is welcome in the comments.  
> I got the idea for the story while trying to go to a cafe before school and it was closed, and that somehow lead to this.  
> Check me out on Tumblr: http://lesmiserablablables.tumblr.com/  
> Leave me a message with a prompt and I'll try to write it!


End file.
